Hopeless Wanderer
by SarcasticEnigma
Summary: Living in the French Quarter had never been so interesting until the Originals stormed back into town. But, beneath the world the vampires and witches think they know, there's another. It's a world that is far more powerful, hidden for centuries. With war on the horizon, this faction is preparing to make their move but whose side are they on? Elijah/OC! Hayley/OC! Slightly AU! R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _The Originals_ or any of the characters. I only own Tessa (and I'm so not changing her name just because _TVD _has a new charrie with the same name. I started writing this back in April, way before they gave Qetsiyah a nickname!) and her story. I also partially own another set of characters you'll see. I say partially because a chunk of this story is going to blend the mythologies of both _Supernatural _and _Lost Girl_ (if you're not watching either, you seriously should be!) and I'm reworking a few characters from them, placing them here. Read on and enjoy!

_**Hopeless Wanderer  
**_

**Chapter 1**

"What the _bloody hell_ do you think you're doing? You know better than to come in here," Tessa scolded.

Jane-Anne didn't seem fazed by the other woman's tone. She just crossed her arms and stared her down. Scoffing, the bartender shook her head and walked around the bar. She nodded for Jane-Anne to follow her and the witch did just that. Luckily, it was early on Monday morning so that meant it was slow. The only people in the bar that doubled as a grill were the local alcoholics, and all of them were so far gone they didn't even notice who was coming and going from the bar. The moment the door slammed shut behind them, the bartender crossed her arms and stared down the other woman. Tessa Masters wasn't a very patient woman and she had a low tolerance for bullshit, especially _witch _bullshit. The past eight months, Jane-Anne Deveraux had been a pain in the ass of every witch in New Orleans. The grand exception was Tessa because, despite her years in the city, she wasn't a native and not apart of the local coven. Desperate times called for desperate measures, she supposed. The fact that she was ballsy enough to go into Marcel's favorite bar was the last straw in Tessa's book. It was one thing to be a nuisance over the phone, or at the funeral home where she also worked, or at the city morgue, or even at her apartment! But it was another to take a stroll into Marcel's territory. Sure, Jane-Anne had meddled in Tessa's personal life enough already but what she was doing at the moment was suicide. Witches never went into Marcel's places. Never, and for good reason.

"I need to know if you're with me," Jane-Anne told her.

"This again," Tessa sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know where I stand, Jay."

"Tessa," the witch began forcefully, insistent, "Marcel is a _plague_ and he needs to be eradicated."

Blinking owlishly, she replied, "Wow, how did you say that with a straight face?"

"Tessa!" Jane-Anne snapped.

"What?" she snapped back, just as annoyed. "What do you want me to say? You know Marcel's rules and you _know _everything in the Quarter is Marcel's business. What you're planning is suicide and you know that, too. Plus, pissing off an Original?" Tessa winced and tsked at her. "_Really_ bad move." Tessa knew one of the Originals and she knew better than to make him angry. It was a lifetime ago, but she still remembered every inch of him. She both respected and feared him and, yes, a part of her still loved him. She wasn't egotistical enough, not to mention she wasn't stupid, to incur his wrath.

"This girl, this werewolf, she is the _only_ link we have to Klaus. We can use her to control him." Tessa chuckled under her breath at her stupidity, at her sheer arrogance. No one controlled Originals, especially not witches. Unfazed, the witch asked once more, "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Hmmm, let me think." Tessa tapped her chin and pretended to ponder Jane-Anne's request, again, for probably the hundredth time since she'd initially approached her. "No, I don't think I will." The witch ducked her head and shook it in disappointment. "I don't fancy having my throat torn open or my heart ripped out of my chest, thank you very much."

"You're the _only_ witch that Marcel trusts and, instead of helping your sisters, you _stand_ with him?" Jane-Anne accused, disgusted by Tessa's behavior. As a witch, she was meant to maintain the balance, which meant that vampires were her natural enemy. Tessa was meant to be on _their_ side, helping them take down Marcel, not slinging him drinks and whatever else she did for him.

"'Ya know, I never understood the whole "sisterhood" thing. I always preferred to be a lone practitioner." Tessa crossed her arms and stared down the other woman, reminding her, "Besides, wasn't it you who told me I wasn't welcome in your coven?"

"That was years ago," Jane-Anne pointed out solemnly.

"And, yet, that doesn't change that fact that, for all these years, you and your coven kept me banned from your cemetery, your shops, everything!" she snapped. "I guess when you need my help you can conveniently forget trivial things like that," she added sarcastically.

"And Marcel?"

Tessa shrugged and replied, "Look, I've told you a thousand times: I don't know how he's keeping tabs on all of you. I don't know, and he not sharing anytime soon." Striding over to Jane-Anne, she hissed, "I've been at his side for _thirty years_. Don't 'ya think he would've told me by now if he _actually_ trusted me?"

"And how do we know _you _aren't the one telling him when we use magic?" the witch accused tersely.

Tessa reeled back and questioned, offended, "You think I'm _ratting _on you?" She scoffed and shook her head, but Jane-Anne just crossed her arms and stared her down. "Seriously? You've seen my powers, Jay. You know I don't have the kind of power it would require to keep tabs on _every _witch in the Quarter." Although she was a little flattered that Jane-Anne thought she was so powerful.

"So, what, you get to practice and be exempt to the rules?" Jane-Anne retorted bitterly. "You just get to sit pretty while he runs the rest of us into the ground?"

"What's that saying about living in the shade of a dragon?" The bartender took a breath and shrugged once more. "I can't remember, but that's basically how my relationship with Marcel works. He lets me be me, gives me a free pass on the whole "youth and beauty" schtick and, in return, I give him my friendship and loyalty." Tessa backed away from the witch, intending to return to work but the other woman's voice stopped her.

"I can't allow anymore witches to die. I _won't_. If you aren't with us, then you're against us," she threatened. Both curious and amused, Tessa slowly turned around to face her. Jane-Anne stood strong, proud, unflinching.

"There's an "us" now?" she inquired, chuckling in amusement. "You charged in there," she said, gesturing towards the bar behind her, "wanting me to side with _you_, now there's suddenly an "us"?" Tessa shook her head. "You're telling me that your little backwoods coven actually sacked up? Even Agnes?" she exclaimed, somewhat stunned. "Wow, I'm impressed," she whispered mockingly. "I didn't think you witches could get anymore stupid."

"You don't get it, Tess! He's a monster!"

"No, _you_ don't get it. I don't care." And she didn't. Marcel wasn't a threat to her. An annoyance, but not a threat. Not yet, at least. "Have a nice life, Jay. What'll be left of it," she called over her shoulder, waving goodbye to the persistent witch. Back behind the bar, Tessa fixed herself a rum and coke. Trouble was coming to New Orleans, that much was certain.

* * *

Tessa poured a shot with a smirk and gladly took the cash set before her. Best part of being a bartender? The tips, especially when she wore clothes on the skimpier side of her wardrobe. The crowd was mostly humans, a few vampires, zero witches, werewolves had been driven into the bayou and most left Louisiana entirely, and then there was Tessa, seamlessly blending in. Marcel and his gang of lackies wandered in a hour ago and, while they weren't on their way to getting wasted – given a vampire's constitution for alcohol – they were definitely getting rowdy. With Marcel's group, rowdy usually meant a feeding frenzy or a party, most times it was both. Tessa had been to plenty of Marcel's parties over the years, some of his boys even attempted to compel her into a dark corner for a bite. Those that tried got a very rude awakening, usually from her but _always _from Marcel. She was one of "his" and no one, not even his closest, his family, were allowed to touch her. The crowd hooted, whistled, crowed, and cheered as Marcel, the self-proclaimed King of the Quarter, finished his song. He thanked the crowd and jumped off the stage, sliding over to his crew. With a shake of her head, Tessa passed Diego the shot of scotch and he passed it to Marcel, who promptly downed it.

"Thanks, Tess," Marcel purred, winking at her.

Tessa wiped down the bar and replied, "Always a pleasure, darling." Winking back, she took the cash and turned around.

The moment her back was turned, her smirk fell and she rolled her eyes. Marcel may have thought she was his, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Suddenly, a new energy hit her and Tessa's eyes whipped towards the entrance of the bar. Standing there, in the middle of the crowd, was a young man. He was cute, she'd give him that, but he was glaring at Marcel. Intrigued, Tessa turned back around and leaned against the bar, letting her coworker handle the crowd for the moment. He knew better than to piss her off anyway because Marcel liked her, especially when she was happy and, if she wasn't happy, then Marcel wasn't happy. Daniel was a local; human, but local and he knew the rules just as well as everyone else, and he knew _exactly _what Marcel could do to him. Being a favorite was fun, it got Tessa a lot of perks, she couldn't deny that. But it was a hindrance as well. Marcel thought he owned her, that she was his and his alone, because he gave her protection. Little did he know, she didn't need his protection and she sure as shit didn't want it either. Alas, she had to blend in and, in New Orleans, the safest place to be was with the enemy: the vampires. This new man, however, this stranger, he didn't belong to anyone and Tessa could just tell he wouldn't bend to Marcel's rule so easily. He was different.

"Klaus," Marcel greeted, guarded. _Shit_, was the thought that raced through Tessa's mind.

"Marcel."

"Must be a hundred years since that _nasty_ business with your papa." Klaus shrugged.

"Has it been that long?" he asked casually, walking closer.

Marcel stepped away from his boys and replied, "Way I recall it, he ran you out of town, left a trail of dead vampires in his wake."

"And, yet, how fortunate _you_ managed to survive. My father, I'm afraid," he said with a nonchalant tone and roll of his eyes, "I recently incinerated to dust." Tessa straightened up as Marcel's boys rose to their feet, ready to attack at their master's call.

"Well, if I'd of known you were coming back in town, if I'd had a head's up—"

"What, Marcel?" Klaus hissed, standing toe to toe with the other man, glaring at him. "What would you of done?" Tessa held her breath, watching the intense stare between the two men.

"I'd of thrown you a _damn_ parade," Marcel replied, a smiled growing on his face. The two men suddenly laughed and pulled each other into a hug. When he pulled away, Marcel proclaimed, "Niklaus Mikaelson – my mention, my savior, my sire!"

Niklaus Mikaelson? Tessa paled at the familiar name and silently hoped that it was just a coincidence. Oh, who the hell was she kidding? How many Niklaus Mikaelson's were there in the world, let alone an Original? Coincidence her ass, she wasn't that lucky. A family, a family of Originals, the Original Family – however she thought it, the insane notion just didn't want to wrap around her brain. The Original she'd known had never mentioned that the other Originals were his _siblings_. He rarely mentioned the other Originals and he only ever referred to his family in the past tense, so she naturally assumed they were dead. Well, they were dead, just _un_-dead. Regardless of the new information, that she was still trying to process with a shot of whiskey, it seemed that Jane-Anne's plan had succeeded since the famed hybrid was in town. Hopefully, he was the only Mikaelson as Tessa didn't fancy a reunion.

"I'd written you off as dead," Klaus admitted, relieved to see his progeny alive. Well, not _alive _in the traditional sense.

"I _rose_, like a phoenix from the ashes." Tessa scoffed and rolled her eyes at that comment, turning to fix a series of shots for a human. "Come on, let's get you a drink." Arm wrapped around his sire's shoulder, he walked past his men. "Tess," Marcel called out as he walked past, "the best bottle and two glasses." Dutifully, she nodded and finished waiting on her customer before grabbing the top shelf scotch and two glasses. She nodded at Thierry, who was drinking in the doorway, standing guard and strut in. The stranger looked her up and down, not in any sexual way but more curiously. However, Tessa ignored him as she set down the two glasses. Marcel grinned at her, thanking her as he reached out to take the bottle. She raised it out of his reach, however, and raised a brow at him.

"What's the magic word?" she asked, free hand on her hip.

Marcel chuckled and answered, "Abracadabra." Tessa stared down at him, unamused.

"Well, that's _a _magic word so points for that," she snarked with a saccharine grin. Lowering the bottle, she cracked it opened and poured both men a drink.

"Not for originality?" he questioned bemusedly.

"Nope. Sorry. You lack that." Marcel leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, his eyes wandering up and down Tessa's slim body.

"Take me up on my offer and I'll show you just how wrong you are," he told her, his tone promising heights of pleasure.

Arms crossed, she sassed, "And you are officially the most disgusting man in town, wow!"

Marcel laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. "Tess, this is Niklaus Mikaelson, my sire. Klaus, _this_ is Tessa Masters, my number one girl." He squeezed her hips affectionately, winking at his sire, who smirked back at him.

"He wishes," Tessa interjected, pulling away from the vampire. She punched his shoulder and smiled at Klaus, whose shoulder's were shaking with laughter at his progeny's misfortune. "Nice to meet you. Now, if you don't mind, some of us have _actual _jobs to do." Marcel made a painful look and 'ooohed' at her a moment before laughing. Shaking her head, Tessa headed back behind the bar and set about her customers, a frown marring her face. It was just a few hours later, when the sun was down, that Marcel strut out of the bar, Klaus and some lackies behind him. Marcel had a grin on his face and her frown deepened. An ecstatic Marcel was never good for someone.

* * *

Jane-Anne was dead.

Tessa heard through the grapevine, from the various covens of witches in mourning and the jubilant daywalkers around the Quarter, that Marcel had opened her throat the previous night. Jane-Anne had been accused of practicing magic, something she denied, and she paid the price for it. Marcel claimed to be a "merciful" ruler but he was just as bad as some tyrants of old. He would claim that what was his was also shared by those in his inner circle, something Tessa was not apart of as she had a pulse, but everything was _his_. The Quarter was most definitely his and his alone. Anyone tried to test that, _especially_ the witches that thought they still had power, Marcel put them in their place. He never wasted an opportunity for a show of force; Marcel just loved a good show. He'd taken Tessa to one once, to show her just who was boss around town she supposed. She'd found it melodramatic, to say the least, and never went to another. How he was doing it, Tessa didn't know; Jane-Anne didn't believe her, none of the witches did, but it was true. Somehow, he was aware of every move the witches made; they couldn't do magic without getting caught and paying the price. Even Sophie was paying for her sister's arrogance because, as Tessa heard it, Marcel was holding Jane-Anne's body ransom until Sophie could "recall" why Klaus was in town, why he was looking specifically for Jane-Anne.

Currently, she was enjoying a glass of rum and coke at Marcel's home. She was sitting on the edge of the fountain in the center of the lower level. A few of the humans nearby were intrigued by her, watching her dance her fingers around the water aimlessly. She continued to do so until a speedy vampire blew out a few candles floating in the fountain. The moment the flame died, she would either pick up the tiny white candle and blow the flame back on or point at the wick, her fingers like a gun and her thumb the trigger. _That _was what the humans were watching, her lighting candles without matches or a lighter, with "magic". Humans, so easily entertained. As she took another long sip, Klaus emerged from the crowd and approached Marcel. He was questioning him, rather emphatically, about how Marcel controlled the witches. He was demanding to know the secret and Marcel, as always, refused to give up his prize. He controlled the witches in "his town". Klaus didn't like that. At all.

"That's funny. Because, when I left a hundred years ago, you were just a _pathetic_ little scrapper

still trembling from the lashes of the whips of those who would keep you down and now look at you? _Master_ of your domain! _Prince _of the city," Klaus spat angrily. "I'd like to know how."

"Why? Jealous?" Marcel questioned childishly. Tessa shook her head. Marcel seriously needed to learn to show respect where respect was due. "Hey, man, I get it. Three hundred years ago, you helped build a backwater penal colony into something. _You_ started it, but then you _left_. Actually, you _ran_ from it; _I _saw it through. Look around! _Vampires_ rule this city now! We don't have to live in the _shadows_ like rats. The locals know their place, they look the other way. _I_ got rid of the werewolves. I even found a way shut down the witches. The blood never stops flowing and the party _never _ends. You wanna pass on through? You wanna stay awhile? Great." Despite his phrasing, he certainly didn't sound too happy about the possibility of Klaus staying in New Orleans. "What's mine is yours, but it _is_ mine – _my_ home, _my _family, _my _rules."

"And if someone breaks those rules?" Klaus questioned calmly.

"They die," Marcel answered easily. "Mercy is for the weak. _You _taught me that, too. And I'm not the "prince" of the Quarter, friend. I'm the _king_," he roared. "Show me some respect!" Klaus took a breath and looked around the room. A moment later, he was across the room and had his fangs in Thierry's neck. He released the vampire and turned to face the stunned crowd, blood dripping from his lips.

"Your friend will be dead by the weekend, which means I've broken one of your rules. And, yet, I cannot be killed. I _am_ immortal." The unspoken threat to all vampires present, including Marcel, was very clear: You cannot kill me, but I can kill you and there's nothing you can do about it because I am _truly_ immortal. "Who has the power now, _friend_?" Klaus backed out of the room with a smile, surveying the fear he instilled. Tessa walked around the fountain and ducked out one of the side doors. The moment she was outside, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He was close by. Turning in the direction she felt him, she broke into a run and pushed her way through the crowd until she caught sight of the blonde head of hair and leather jacket.

"Hey!" Tessa called out. Klaus halted mid stride and glanced over his shoulder at her. He had a perplexed look on his face as she casually walked toward him, shaking her head. "You know, pissing off Marcel, while tons of fun, _really_ not the best idea," she scolded playfully. "Pretty foolish, actually." Klaus scoffed and walked away.

"And what would _you_ know?" he hissed as she followed him. "You're just another one of Marcel's lackies. His "number one girl"," he mocked. "You're better looking than the tossers he had following me, I'll give you that, sweetheart, but I'm in no mood."

Tessa scoffed and told him, "I'm pretty far from being in Marcel's camp, but thanks for the compliment. You're not so bad yourself, dimples."

"Klaus," he growled at her.

"I know who you are, hybrid."

"Original Hybrid, actually," he retorted.

"Oooh, and just as egotistical as I've heard." She laughed under her breath and shook her head, thoroughly amused. Klaus quickly pushed her into an alley and up against the wall, hand tight around her throat.

"And what else have you heard?" he inquired, his eyes changing to black and yellow. "And, keep in mind, I'm not very tolerant to lies."

"No lies. Scouts honor," she promised, holding three fingers. "I heard that there's a werewolf in town." Klaus slowly released her and Tessa straightened out her clothes. "Best keep her hidden. Marcel, he has a thing for playing with them, if you catch my drift." The hybrid frowned and walked out of the alley. He'd thought he'd left Tessa behind but she turned up beside him, a smile on her face, as if he hadn't threatened her at all. "I take it Jane-Anne made her desperate pitch to you."

"You know them then?" He'd asked but he sure didn't sound to interested in whatever she had to say.

"Oh, you met Sophie, too, then?" Tessa hummed in surprise. "Every supernatural being in New Orleans knows the Deveraux witches. They're almost as famous as you." He chuckled, both amused and proud that she was attempting flattery. "So, did she? Let me guess, "Oh, Klaus, you're so powerful. Please, free us from Marcel's wicked subjugation"," she mocked in a high pitched voice, making Klaus laugh.

"Something like that." Tessa nodded and said nothing else. She knew that the witches were going to do something stupid like threaten Klaus, but she had to wonder what kind of leverage they had over him. Pulling her to a stop, he seriously asked her, "Do you know how he did it?"

"Me? No. I arrived here, oh, about thirty years ago. Marcel had the local humans trained to look the other way, the witches feared him – although not to the extent they do now – and the werewolves, well, you can imagine what he did to them, their bite being fatal to a vampire and all," she explained. Shrugging, she paused in the walk and Klaus stood before her. "There was a truce, amongst everyone but...I don't know. In the last eight months, something changed but, I'm sorry, I don't know how," she apologized. "When I got here, he was already _well_ on his way to being "King of the Quarter". And, now, he is."

"Thirty years? You're a witch then, too, are you?" Tessa shrugged, neither confirming nor denying his guess. "Marcel let's you break his rules then? He let's you practice your magic, how else could you stay so young and beautiful?" he observed, running the back of his fingers along her cheek. Tessa backed away from him, silently telling him not to touch her.

"I'm not really a force to be reckoned with. Not like the Deveraux's." Klaus stared her down, knowing instinctively that she was lying and she scoffed at him. Rolling her eyes, she admitted, "Fine. I can keep myself young, heal quickly, conjure some fire and, yeah, I'm stronger than your normal human. But Marcel has nothing to fear from me. I'm nothing special."

"Oh, I doubt that," he purred and leaned in closer. He took in her scent for a moment before she pushed him away. She smelled of the spice of liquor, chemicals, and different than most witches, a hint of herbs were there but there was something else. Something far more strong than the earthy smell witches bore, something far more harsh. Something darker.

"Just quit pissing him off," she advised and she walked backwards from him. "It inconveniences the rest of our lives." The moment the words left her mouth, she turned around and quickened her pace with the intention of getting home, to a hot bath and some kind of alcohol. Perhaps a bottle of red wine for the evening would suffice.

"You say that as if I care," he called out. Tessa turned back around, annoyed, and saw a triumphant grin on his face

"Oh, I know you don't," she replied and continued on her way. Under her breath, knowing he would hear her, she muttered, "But you should." Klaus had, indeed, heard her and shook his head, a frown on his face. He pushed his way through the throngs of people until he came across a group of street painters. Finally, something in the blasted town that made sense.

P.S.: Eight pages total.

_**A/N:** _Just a quick note! I want it known that I am 10,000% Haylijah! But, because I've had this Elijah story swimming around in my head for over a year, my girl takes priority. But I love Hayley and she will get a romance of her own, promise!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _The Originals_ or any of the characters. I only own Tessa, another set of characters you've yet to meet, and this story. Read on and enjoy!

I would just like to say that I am utterly astounded and amazed by all the positive feedback. I couldn't believe how many favorites and followers this story has already, with the just the first chapter! So, since it _is _Tuesday - and all my Haylijah feels are bursting with excitement for tonight! - I thought I'd reward everyone with another chapter. And this chapter is all about Elijah and Tessa, so enjoy it!

**Chapter 2**

Stepping out of her apartment complex, Tessa groaned at the bright sun and quickly put her sunglasses on. She was meant to have the day off but, unfortunately, there was no such thing as rest in the Quarter. The butcher was dead, courtesy of Marcel because he broke the rules, and a traditional parade was blaring through town. When someone died in the Quarter, a parade was typically held; death was a way to celebrate the person's life, not mourn them. Tessa, however, was regretting her decision to live in the Quarter due to the noise. Working in a bar did not make her a morning person. Typically, she worked from seven at night until three o'clock in the morning, which meant she got to sleep in. Sometimes she had to go in the morning, work the brunch and lunch shift but that was very rare as her boss knew the bar gig was only part-time and her _real _job was that of a mortician. During the day, she was meant to tend to the dead. Unfortunately, _that_ morning, she was not only rudely awoken by the noisy parade but also by her boss at the bar, calling her in to cover the brunch shift of another bartender, the useless twit Rita. As she begrudgingly continued on her way to the bar, she bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she apologized and moved to continue on her way when the person grasped her arm. "Hey, hands off!" she shouted and whipped around to punch the stranger. She stopped and stared at the man before her, stunned and breathless as she slowly removed her sunglasses. He'd changed so much and yet not changed at all since she'd last saw him.

"Theresa," he breathed, gently pulling her closer to him. She allowed him to, too shocked and terrified all at once to do anything else. His free hand reached up and touched her cheek, her eyes closed, and he felt that she was very real. "How are you...?"

Tessa recovered from her stunned state and sassily replied, "Such a fashionista? So stunningly beautiful?"

"Alive," he interjected firmly, "was actually the word I was searching for."

"Oh. That." She shrugged helplessly.

"Theresa—"

"How rude are you, Elijah? Asking such a thing," she scolded playfully, trying to disguise the fact that she was both scared and exhilarated by his presence. She tried to pull away from him but his hands tightened on her hips. "It's almost as bad as asking a girl how old she is."

"Theresa," Elijah warned, his patience thinning.

"It's not like I ask you how old _you_ are or anything. Or why you're always wearing such stuffy suits." She smiled and chuckled, playing with the collar of his suit jacket. "I mean, the Elijah I remember wasn't such a stick in the mud."

"Theresa!"

"What?" she snapped.

"How?" he questioned firmly but she just shrugged one shoulder.

"A girl's gotta have some secrets, Elijah. Keep the mystique," she replied playfully. "How did you find me?"

"Truthfully, I wasn't looking for you." Tessa pulled away from him and, this time, he released her. But he followed her, kept his eyes fixed on her, taking in her lithe form as she leaned against the wall of her building. Her feelings weren't hurt, she told herself. They were _not_ hurt. But they were and she was desperately trying to hide that fact as she scowled at him. It wasn't as if she had any right to be mad at him; he hadn't known she was alive and well. "I was told that Marcel had a witch in his pocket causing trouble for the locals practitioners, a bartender called Tessa. I thought I'd take care of the matter for the witches, as a sign of good faith."

"You came to _kill _me?" she realized. "That's..." she shook her head before uttering, "unfortunate."

"Not so. I was going to kill a witch and, as you aren't one, you're safe. Though it does beg _many_ questions," he told her. "Perhaps best left for another time." Tessa rolled her eyes, sensing the scolding in his tone. "I swore to the witches that I would not kill Marcel, however..." Elijah reached out and gently grasped her neck, caressing her jawline with his thumb. Tessa bit her lip and closed her eyes, relaxing into his familiar touch. Elijah invaded her space and ran the tip of his nose along the column of her throat. To anyone passing on the street, they looked like a couple having an intimate moment. "You _reek _of the fodder in this town. I may just have to break my word." She chuckled and pulled away, looking up at him with a smile.

"You'd never do that," she reminded him with a soft smile, knowing he was nothing if not a man of his word.

"Don't tempt me."

"But I'm so good at it," she retorted with a wicked grin.

Elijah chuckled, telling her, "Indeed you are." Looking around, Tessa remembered where they were and cleared her throat, easing herself out of his grip. After all, any of Marcel's daywalkers could have been watching. It wouldn't be the first time he had them stalk her, for her "protection".

"So, I met your brother, _Klaus_," she said, putting emphasis on the nickname. During her time with Elijah, he had only ever referred to his younger brother as Nik or Niklaus. "He's...delightful," she told him sarcastically. Elijah nodded, hands in his pockets to keep from touching her more than he already had. "And very curious about witches," she pointed out, fishing for an explanation.

"The local coven has been conspiring against him. You wouldn't be helping them, would you?"

"Do you think I'd be so foolish as to piss off an Original?" she asked. Elijah quirked a brow at her, silently telling her that she was doing just that with him. She quirked a brow right back, defiant, and he smiled softly at her. Tessa bit her bottom lip and lowered her head, shaking her head at her girlish delight. Regardless, she was disappointed that he didn't know her better. "Jane-Anne, Jay," she redirected, "she approached me about two months ago and made her case. "This is _our_ town and we need to take it back". You know, you really have to admire the spunk. Or _had_ to, I guess, would be more appropriate." Shaking the thought away, she turned her attention back to Elijah. "I suppose she never knew New Orleans was founded by a family of vampires. _Your_ family, as it turns out." Elijah cleared his throat and adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, avoiding her gaze. He knew that disapproving tone, he remembered it all too well, and he had never liked it. "Jay never figured it out, but witches? Witches don't own _jack_ in this world."

"And her sister, Sophie, what can you tell me of her?"

"Witches don't get involved in vampire business, especially not witches like Sophie. She's not a practitioner, not like Jay was." Hell, Sophie hadn't even been in town until a couple of months ago.

"She is now," he revealed.

"That's surprising." It truly was. "From what I heard, Sophie's never been into magic, not like the rest of her family."

"Whatever her past may have been, she's very demanding now," he informed her, more than annoyed with the amount of demands the witch had made on him and, in turn, his little brother. "They believe you are one of them?" he questioned, curious.

"I'm not welcome in their coven but, yes, they think I'm a "sister"," she admitted with a proud nod. "So does Marcel. It comes in handy, what with my good looks and all," she teased, alluding to the fact that she didn't age. It wasn't magic, it was nature; not that the witches, Marcel or even Elijah knew that. Unfortunately for her, Elijah's interest was now piqued and, as she remembered, when he became curious about something, he usually became obsessed with discovering the answer. Deciding to get off the topic of her, she asked, "I'm sure you've realized that scaring them out of town isn't an option." Elijah nodded, amused at her obvious deflection. "Hmm, ancestral magic. It _is _a bitch to deal with." The local witches were bound to New Orleans. Their powers, their magic – it was connected to their dead, to the bodies in the crypts of their home. They could leave the city if they so wished to escape Marcel, but they'd be leaving their source of power behind as well. It was the main reason for their hunger for revolution. "So, business aside, how are you? I'm assuming since you're looking after baby brother that you were finally "reunited with your family"?" It may have been decades since she last saw him, but she remembered every moment they spent together as if it were yesterday. Family was important, more than anything else, to Elijah. He'd spend hours telling her about his family, how he longed to be reunited with them. She'd always assumed he meant in a true death as he never told her his siblings were the other Originals.

"What's left of it, yes," he told her with a nod. "Kol and Finn are dead."

Tessa frowned and sympathized. "I'm sorry."

"It couldn't be helped," he assured her. "Finn turned against us and Kol started trouble. Rebekah is in Virginia and it seems she plans to stay there, away from Niklaus, myself, and even the baby," he admitted. He continued on, not missing a beat, not even when she held up her hand, eyes wide and stammering in confusion. "She's actually quite hopeful the witches here will find a way to kill our brother."

"Wait a minute, hold up. Did you say "baby"?" she asked, perplexed.

Elijah smiled at his thoughtlessness and explained, "My little brother is going to be a father. A werewolf, Hayley, is the mother. Sophie is holding their lives ransom." Tessa let out a small laugh and shook her head in disbelief; and here she though Jane-Anne had been the arrogant sibling.

"So that's why you're interrogating me about the local coven," she realized bemusedly. "Let me guess: because Klaus created Marcel, he's responsible for all his misdeeds and, in return for helping de-throne him, thus giving the witches back their power, Sophie is promising to keep Hayley and the baby alive?"

"Still brilliant," he observed with an affectionate gaze.

"Never stopped," she retorted with a smirk. "Why don't you just kill him yourself? I know you could."

"The witch is insistent that we follow her plan. Follow the rules." Based on his tone, he was none too happy with the arrangement. "I have them under control, for the moment."

"But you don't trust them," she remarked.

"Am I correct in that assumption?" he inquired.

"You're a vampire. As a rule, you should never trust a witch," she reminded him, "Especially one that's trying to manipulate you."

"I trusted _you_."

"Oh, I was trying to manipulate you," she admitted easily. "But for very different reasons." She grinned at Elijah, remembering the days and nights they'd spent entwined and tangled together.

"I remember," he replied, smiling back at her. "But, as I've said, Theresa, you are no witch."

Clearing her throat, Tessa moved onto a neutral subject. "He's made a deal then, your brother? His little family-to-be is safe?" Elijah laughed at her, shaking his head. He'd only let her get away with not answering his questions for so long.

"For now, because he wants everything Marcel has. He wants to be king again and "every king needs an heir"," he told her, shaking his head at his brother's words.

"Charming," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "This baby isn't a power play, it's an innocent victim of supernatural circumstances." Elijah stared at her, watching the myriad of emotion playing across her delicate features.

"He can say all he wants is the power, but I'm going to make sure he doesn't do what he's always done. Given a chance at happiness, he runs."

"A family trait," she observed sardonically.

"I know my brother," he returned, refusing to touch on the topic of their separation. "He hides it well, but he cares. If not for the girl, then for the baby. Family – the unconditional love and loyalty that comes with it – _that_ is power."

"That it is," she agreed. "So, what's the plan?"

Mildly stunned, he stared down at her and asked, "You'll stand with me then?" Tessa smiled softly.

"I've _always_ stood with you," she reminded him. "So?"

"Niklaus will cement himself into Marcel's inner circle: his friends, his family."

"Hit him where it hurts. Good." Tessa approved of, at least, that part of the plan. It was a good start as it would be easier to take Marcel down from the inside out and being in his inner circle was the only way to do that. Skeptical of Klaus, considering she'd been witness to his temper already, she asked, "You sure he'll be able to grovel enough to do that?" Elijah just told her to have faith, causing her to scoff in haughty derision. "I'd rather have some reassurance. I know Marcel, been with him for thirty years, and _I_ don't even know how he's controlling the witches."

"Well, you _are _a witch. To him, at least." And there it was again, his not so subtle jab at her lies about her very being. "Sophie wants Marcel to suffer. We're to distract him but keep him alive. She has no idea what she's asking. My brother's temper is legendary."

"Don't sell yourself so short, darling. So is yours."

"That's besides the point. She doesn't trust me enough to let me in on witch business. Not yet. But she will."

"I could try to put in a good word for you. Although Sophie has never been my biggest fan so..."

"Although I gained a small trust, I doubt your words would do much good." Arms crossed, she asked him what he did, both excited to hear and dreading the answer. "I just put things in perspective for them." Tessa nodded, deciding to draw her own conclusions from that. What she was unaware of was that the spell Jane-Anne concocted not only confirmed Hayley's pregnancy but also linked Hayley's life to Sophie. Elijah witnessed this first hand, with a simple prick of Sophie's hand that occurred on Hayley's. As a result, Elijah made the witch a promise that, if anything happened to Hayley and the baby, then she and her coven need not fear Marcel or Klaus or anyone more than they'd need fear him. "The witches have released Hayley to me. They did what they had to, to keep her safe and that is now my job. One I gladly accept; since the baby is my family, she is as well. But she is...impetuous."

"And that frustrates you?" she asked, stunned and amused as he nodded slightly. "Interesting. I remember a time when that _excited_ you."

"Theresa," he warned, a hint of a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me," she teased demurely, biting back a smile. "What can I do to help the _great_ and _powerful_ Elijah Mikaelson?"

Taking a breath, he looked into her eyes and asked, "Can you assist me? Help protect Hayley and the baby?" Tessa nodded shortly.

"If need be," she answered seriously.

"Not just from Marcel and the covens, but from my brother?"

Slowly, uncertain, she nodded and admitted, "I have a safe house, in case of emergencies. Marcel doesn't know about it, no one in his gang does – not his circle, not his riff-raff." His riff-raff being the night walkers, the lackies and muscle only worthy of walking the night. "It's on sacred ground so no vampire, not even an all powerful Original, can enter without invitation. It should work on Klaus as well, if need be. I can take her there, if the occasion calls for it." Elijah nodded his approval, relief clearly written across his features, and thanked her. Pushing off the wall, Tessa shouldered her purse and walked around the Original. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to work. Marcel gets crabby when his favorite bartender isn't around."

"All this unpleasant business aside," he called, catching her hand as she walked away so she would face, "it's lovely to see you again, Theresa." Elijah pulled her into him and leaned down, gently kissed her cheek. He pulled away all too soon, but not before nuzzling her cheek with the tip of his nose, leaving a lingering flush on her skin and a familiar warmth stirring in her belly. "I've missed you."

Eyes closed, she breathlessly admitted, "I've missed you, too." Pulling back, she looked up at him with a sly smile. "It's been, what, seventy years?"

"Seventy-one," he corrected and she smiled wanly. He remembered.

"Seventy-one years. That is _far_ too long." The pair shared a smile and Tessa backed away, intending to suffer through a miserable day of work. Of course, Elijah's presence had made her day much better. As she walked away, she whipped around and called out, "Oh, and Elijah?" The Original quirked a brow at her. "It's Tessa now," she informed him with a wink. Turning around, Tessa strut away from the Original and put her sunglasses back on with a big smile on her face. The Quarter, not to mention her life, had _definitely _just gotten much more interesting.

P.S.: Six pages total.

_**A/N:**_ I just wanted to put this out here now, before I forget entirely. Now, I don't watch _TVD_ anymore; honestly, the only reason I started watching was because I heard Daniel Gillies was going to be on so I suffered through the first season for him. Anyway, since he's on the spin-off, I stopped caring about the _TVD_, so I just have a vague idea of what's going on from my tumblr dash. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but it's true that Tyler is crossing over? UGHHHH! That is really very annoying and puts a kink in my future plans so, now "hear" this: there will be _no_ crossover into the _TVD _universe with this fic! There will be no Tyler, no Klaroline (which I don't ship anyway), no doppleganger drama, no Mystic Falls - no nothing! If you can't roll with that, I understand. If you can, I promise, you won't be disappointed with my plans to fill in any and all crossover spots with my own ideas. Trust me!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _The Originals_ or any of the characters. I only own Tessa, another set of characters you'll meet, and her story. Read on and enjoy!

Question: I've been thinking about bring Kol back. Now, I know I said I'm not going to follow the shows crossover with _TVD_, which I don't intend to (although it looks like I might have to keep Tyler lol), so what would you guys suggest about bringing Kol back without the Silas/veil thing? I have some vague ideas, but I'm open to others. Remember, this is a mixing of the _Supernatural_ and _Lost Girl_ mythos, so anything is possible!

**Chapter 3**

The city of New Orleans, a place where people of all "flavors" from all over the country would come to party. Some would come looking for fun – listening to all the live music, bar hopping and getting beads on Mardi Gras – while others looked for something darker, a little more dangerous, like the haunted tours. Those people were easy to spot and the perfect people to get invited into Marcel's home in the form of fliers reading, "The Abattoir, where the party never ends". They would get stamped, party, have fun but, then, at midnight, everything changed and it was time to feed. Abattoir, French for "slaughterhouse". It was rather appropriate, if not disgusting. Tessa sighed, bored, and leaned heavily against the bannister as she watched the mini-massacre below. Why couldn't there just be one night where the nightwalkers didn't get a feast? The smell of blood, fresh blood, made her stomach turn. All the chemicals involved in mortuary science masked the smell quite nicely. So did all the air fresheners and incense she kept burning around her "office". Tessa had a line of shot glasses lined up on the bannister, three of them were empty – four, since she just downed another one – and six lift to go.

"_This_ is how I keep my guys happy: the occasional all you can eat buffet." Tessa rolled her eyes as Marcel approached. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Klaus was with him, the latter looking less than impressed. "My nightwalkers _love_ it. Got 'em working hard trying to earn one of these daylight rings. They deserve to blow off a little steam. My daywalkers, the trusted few, they just like to party." When Klaus questioned him on the victims, about all the bodies being left behind, Marcel explained that they wouldn't kill everyone because then tourism would drop. Instead, they would heal some and compel them to forget what happened, and send them on their way. "No muss, no fuss."

"I'm impressed." Tessa downed the next shot to cover up her grin. Klaus might have sounded impressed, even proud of his protege, but the look on his face said otherwise.

"Nothing I didn't learn from you back in the day," he replied. "Tessa! Tessa, Tessa, Tessa," he chanted, walking over and throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Having a good time?"

"Not particularly," she answered shortly. Klaus chuckled and she nodded a polite greeting to him. Marcel may not have shown respect to the Originals, but Tessa did. Klaus may not deserve such respect, but he and his siblings were the alphas of their species, the progenitors. By default, they all earned her utmost respect, even Klaus. Marcel reached over to steal a shot and she smacked his hand. "Get your own."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're drinking _my _booze," he pointed out. Tessa straightened her back and picked up two shots, handing one to Klaus. She clinked her glass with his and downed it. Marcel stared at her, brow raised, a stern frown on his face.

"He didn't try to steal _my _booze," she retorted, smirking deviously. Slowly, Marcel chuckled and looked at Klaus. The hybrid, somewhat unsure, took the shot and nodded his thanks to her. "This one is at least somewhat courteous." While the men muttered about the frivolities of women, Tessa turned back to the last three shots and waved her hand over them, flames appearing in each. "A toast," she proposed. "To good friends and good booze?"

"Sounds perfect to me," Klaus replied, all three clinking their glasses.

"Marcel." Thierry sauntered up to the trio, a grim look on his face. "Six of our guys were killed in a bar outside the Quarter. Nightwalkers. No one saw who." Marcel looked over the crowd and downed his shot, slamming the glass on the bannister, and excused himself from Klaus and Tessa, following Thierry to discuss finding out just who was responsible.

"He doesn't look too happy. If I hadn't spotted you with Marcel for most the night, I'd say _you_ were responsible," Tessa observed.

"Though I wish I could claim credit, and I do," Klaus toned facetiously, a mischievous smile on his face, "sadly, I am not responsible. Perhaps you are to blame?"

"Oh, no. I would never," she retorted, the wicked smile on her face belying her aghast tone. The two shared a quiet laugh and clinked glasses once more before downing the flaming shots. "Hmm, looks like nerdy girl and her gay best friend get a free pass." She looked over and saw Klaus eying the pair of them, a glint in his eye as he watched the pair leave. Klaus knew as well as she did that Marcel made his boys imbibe vervain, to protect them from any Originals compulsion. But new vampires, if an Original could get to them before Marcel did, _could _be compelled. An obedient little mole, a partner in crime. "Maybe you ought to make sure they get back their hotel okay?" she suggested with a shrug. "Or buy them a drink? I mean, as Marcel's dearest friend, it's the _least_ you could do."

Klaus chuckled lowly and shook his head, "Already planned to, love." Klaus sauntered away, presumably to chase after the two teens that would soon be joining the ranks of the undead. If Klaus did as she suspected he would, at least. Tessa looked around the balcony area and, once certain she was alone, she pulled out her cell phone. The third speed dial was hit and the other line rang, and rang, and _rang_, until the voice mail picked up.

"Elijah, it's me. _Again_. I don't know what the bloody hell you think you're doing, dumping your family drama on me and then just leaving town, but you know that shit doesn't fly with me," she snapped agitatedly. "So, when you decide to stop being such a bloody wanker, call me back and we'll discuss a protection detail for your werewolf, okay?!" Tessa ended the call and stormed out of Marcel's home, frustrated with Elijah's lack of communication. She was halfway to her apartment when she pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number once more. "Elijah. It's been days. If this is some kind of punishment for seventy-one years of silence, then I'm sorry but you are honestly starting to scare me. Call me back, please."

He never called her back.

* * *

Just as Tessa has suspected, and hoped, the nerdy girl and her friend had showed up on the coroner's slab the following morning. Because of her connection to Marcel, Tessa was given special privileges at the city morgue and was able to steal away the bodies, handing them off to Thierry and Diego. Hopefully, Klaus would be able to get at least one of them on his side. In the mean time, Tessa was on the warpath. She hadn't heard from Elijah all summer. Klaus hadn't mentioned anything and she couldn't bring up the matter to Marcel. He had no idea of her previous relationship with Elijah and she wasn't quite ready to inform him of it. Who knew what he would do if he found out. So that left one option: the witches. Elijah had a standing deal with Sophie Deveraux, which made her Tessa's last lead in tracking down the missing Original. Unfortunately, the witch wasn't exactly welcoming.

"Sophie, I already told you," Tessa said, exasperated, "I made a deal with Elijah. We're all on the same side now."

"As if we can trust you," Sophie spat, glaring at the other woman. "You could have saved Jane and you didn't. You could have stopped Marcel _years_ ago, but you haven't!"

"I've heard this sob story before," she interjected, "and I don't care to hear it again. And I'm tired of explaining myself to you witches."

"And we've heard your excuses before. We don't need them any more. We're "tired" of them, so just get out," she ordered, pushing past her and into her kitchen to start preparing the days lunch menu. Tessa shook her head and chuckled at Sophie's gall before following her.

"Okay, I'll let your snide attitude slide because I have more pressing matters than your impotence to deal with. Elijah," she continued, getting straight the point. "I haven't heard from him. I need to know if you have."

Curiously, Sophie noted, "You almost sound concerned." A moment later, she cocked her head and mocked, "Does perfect little Tessa have a crush on a vampire?" Just as Sophie started to laugh under her breath, Tessa had her by her throat and slammed her down onto the table. She kept her grip just tight enough that Sophie would feel her air supply start to dwindle, but not so tight as to bruise her.

"You Deveraux witches, always talking about things you just don't understand," she commented lightly. "My relationship with Elijah is _none_ of your concern. What _is _your is that Elijah has gone missing and, without him around, I'm less inclined to care about what happens to all of you." Tessa jerked the witches head, causing her to groan in pain as she hit the table once more, before she finally released her. Sophie collapsed to the floor, choking and coughing, gasping for air and holding her throat. "If I found out you had anything to do with his disappearance, I'll be back. But, if you should happen to hear from him, it'd be in your best interest to tell me right away. Ta." Tessa stormed out of the bar and grill, intent on going straight to Klaus for answers next. Until she remembered she had another job to attend to. Begrudgingly, she turned in the opposite direction of what she heard was the Mikaelson family's home and headed towards the bar. She'd work her shift, call Elijah again and, if there was no answer, she'd hound Klaus bright and early tomorrow morning.

* * *

"Klaus Mikaelson!" Tessa shouted, storming into the Mikaelson manor the following morning. "Klaus, hello?" When he didn't appear right away, she shouted once more though much more irate."Anyone home? _Hello?!_"

"_Enough_ with all the shouting!" Klaus yelled, storming down the stairs while glaring at her. "What is it with women in this house always shouting?" Tessa crossed her arms, unamused as he came to a stop before. "You realize there is a pregnant woman trying to get some sleep upstairs, don't you?"

"I'm aware, but my biggest concern right now is Elijah. Where is he?" Klaus' eyes darted away from her for a split second. He took a deep breath and had been about to spout out a series of convincing lies when the front door slammed open and closed.

"You're right. The girl, Cami, she's the key." Tessa turned around and looked the blonde girl up and down, realizing instantly that she had to be Elijah's sister, Rebekah. "Marcel likes her and, because of that, I got to see this secret weapon of his that you've been going on about."

"Well, don't stand on ceremony. What is it?"

"It's not a "what". It's a "who". A girl, Davina. She can't be more than sixteen and I've _never _felt power like that."

"A witch," he realized. Klaus' gaze quickly turned to her and he questioned, "Do you know her?"

Shaking her head, she answer, "I've never even heard of her."

"If you're lying to me..."

"I'm not!" she snapped. "Jane-Anne and Sophie have always suspected that I was the one narcing on them to Marcel, but I don't have the kind of power it would require to keep tabs on all the witches," she explained, annoyed that he was trying to threaten her. Yet again. He did that far too often. "Besides, I could care less if they do magic. Though it would explain how he's making daylight rings," she conceded.

"You mean you don't make them for him?" he asked, his mood growing fouler by the second. Klaus had hoped that he could use Tessa in some manner against Marcel but, if she wasn't his secret weapon, and she didn't use magic for him, then what use was she to him?

"No. I told him a long time ago that, that was one thing I would never do for him. Surprisingly enough, he's always respected that."

"_Excuse me!_" Rebekah shrieked, drawing the attention back to her. "This girl, she's not just any witch! She's something I've never seen before, something _beyond _powerful, and now, because of you, she has Elijah."

"Wait, what? You gave Elijah to Marcel?" Tessa stared at him, stunned. She'd heard a lot about Klaus over the years, mostly from Elijah, and she knew he would dagger his siblings at the drop of a hat but to give one away to his enemy? She never expected that.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Rebekah cheerfully. Tone dripping with sarcasm, she informed her, "My darling brother, in his infinite wisdom, gave our elder brother away as a peace offering!" The blonde vampire shook her head and quietly added, "Who knows what she could do to him."

"She's not going to touch him," Tessa promised vehemently. "Where is he?" Rebekah opened her mouth to tell her exactly where Marcel had taken her, but the words never came.

"That clever bitch. I don't know." Klaus asked her what was wrong and, mystified, frightened, she told him, "She wiped my memory of the location. Marcel possesses a weapon bigger and more powerful than an Original, and _you _handed our brother to him!" Tessa ran her hands through her hair, sighing heavily, trying to remain calm but she couldn't. Some pipsqueak of a girl had Elijah. Some little teeny-bopper was keeping Elijah in his coffin at the foot of her bed, like some horror show hope chest. And Marcel was responsible for it. "How many times will Elijah forgive you? How long until his hope for your redemption finally dies?"

"I did what I had to do! Marcel took our home!" Klaus argued.

"And our home is _worthless_ without family!" Rebekah snapped. A moment later, when she was sufficiently calm, she told him, "I am finding Elijah. Whatever it takes. Are you going to help me?"

Klaus nodded and agreed, "Whatever it takes."

"You can count me in as well then," Tessa announced. She'd snapped out of her daze moment before, slowly walking towards the pair. "While I promised Elijah I would protect the werewolf, from anyone," she told them, her eyes darting to Klaus, "I refuse to continue in this insane plan to overthrow Marcel without him. I'm with you." Klaus turned away from both women, muttering about calling a repairman for the air conditioning. But, from the look on his face, Tessa knew that he had taken the hint and understood that Elijah had enlisted her to protect Hayley from even him, not just Marcel and his army of vampires or the witches. The moment he left, the two women stared at one another, sizing each other up. "So, you're Rebekah. I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?" Rebekah seemed to take great offense to that, believing all she'd heard were bad things from Marcel. Maybe even from Klaus. "Then you know I have a nasty temper."

"And a gentle heart," she interjected kindly. Rebekah eyed her once more, arms still crossed but somewhat mollified. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm on your side."

Rebekah shrugged and told her, "Elijah trusts you. He wouldn't have come to you for help otherwise." Tessa smiled a little, ducking her head at the mention of the man. "And you care for him. Deeply," she realized. Tessa wiped the smile from her face the moment she saw the grin growing across the vampire's face. "I suppose you and wolf girl are my only comrades now."

"You don't trust Klaus?"

"Do you, after what he's done?" she posed, skeptical. Admittedly, Tessa didn't and her lack of answer told Rebekah just that. "Always looking out for himself, that _darling _brother of mine. I've no idea what Elijah was thinking. Our bastard half-brother is utterly beyond redemption."

"You keep thinking that, but if Elijah thinks there's hope for him, then there is," she insisted. Curiously, Rebekah asked her if she really believed her brother could be saved. "I believe in Elijah. And it's time I found out _exactly _where the hell he is. I'll be in touch." Tessa marched out the door, Rebekah immediately charging after her.

"I'm going with you," the vampire insisted.

"No."

"Excuse me? He's _my _brother! If _anyone _has a right to—"

Tessa stopped walking, whipped around, and explained, "You Originals make all the vamps in the Quarter nervous, _especially_ Marcel. Now," she continued, speaking very slowly, "I'm not exactly in his inner circle, but Marcel _does _trust me. If I show up asking questions about Elijah, with _you_ at my back, then my life becomes extremely complicated. Complications like that, I don't need. Get it?" Rebekah bit her tongue and sighed heavily.

"If you betray me—!" Tessa rolled her eyes and walked away once more.

"You'll rip my heart out and feed it to me, wear my rib cage as a hat, my eye balls for earrings," she listed drolly, waving goodbye to Rebekah over her shoulder. "I've heard it all before, sweetheart." Tessa was pretty much numb to such threats after so many years of them.

* * *

"Where is he?"

Marcel turned away from his conversation with Diego and Thierry when he heard the door slam open. His brow furrowed at the sight of Tessa, storming into his home. One of his boys attempted to stop her approach and she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, throwing him up and away from her. He went crashing throwing the second floor bannister. Diego and Thierry moved around their leader, charging at her but she grabbed both of them by their throats and held tight. She tossed Diego away from her and he crashed into the stone wall so hard that it cracked under his body, his neck broken. The vampires were genuinely surprised, not excepting a mere witch to have such strength. Thierry grabbed at her wrist, trying to force her to release him but immediately pulled his hands away as his skin began to burn and smoke.

"Okay, I can see you're pissed about something," Marcel observed calmly, slowly walking towards her, hands raised defensively. "Why don't you let my boy go and tell me what the problem is, Tess?"

"Where is he?" she repeated coldly, not releasing his right-hand-man. "You take one more step closer and I turn your family to ash!" she threatened, increasing the heat in her hand. Thierry's throat began to smoke, harsh red burns forming underneath the harsh grip of her hand.

Marcel stopped and patiently said, "Okay! Okay. Just...calm down. I can't help you until you calm down and let him go." Tessa scowled and let out a frustrated breath but, begrudgingly, she released the vampire and his knees buckled. His skin healed almost instantly, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful. Thierry rose to his feet, pissed, hoping for pay back, but Marcel put his hand on his progeny's chest and nodded for him to let him handle the situation. Reluctantly, the vampire left his sire alone with the irate witch. "Now, how can I help? Who are you looking for?" he asked, a charming smile on his face.

"Don't play games with me, Marcel. I'm in _no_ mood," she stated firmly, glaring at him. "You're my friend so I'll ask one more time: Where. Is. Elijah?"

"Elijah." The vampire chuckled lowly and shook his head in disbelief. "You never told me you knew an Original."

"It was another life, you didn't need to know," she told him. "Now, answer me."

"Actually, I _do_ need to know," he retorted and sped over to her. His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing so tight that she couldn't speak, could barely breath, he slammed her hard against the nearest wall. "_You_ are _mine_, Tessa. _You_ are _my_ witch," he reminded her. "If I need you to dispose of a body, you do it. If I need your magic, I take it. And you do it all with a _smile_. So, yes, Tessa, I _do_ need to know about your relationship with Elijah. Tell me," he ordered and lightened his grip just a fraction so she could speak.

"You can't compel me, Marcel," she gasped painfully. "And, you forget, my _magic_ isn't yours to play with." She narrowed her eyes as she clung to his wrists, desperately trying to pry herself free. "Feel that?" she asked, a vindictive smile making it's way across her face. He was panting now, sweating, becoming confused and disoriented. "That's your blood boiling. A few degrees higher and I could incinerate you to _ash_," she told him and Marcel growled lowly, "so you best let. Me. Go."

"And you best remember who you're threatening, Tess! I snap your neck and you're dead. You don't have the power to resurrect yourself, and no vamp blood in your system," he reminded her, rather smug with himself, "well, you know what that means." Tessa knew exactly what that meant. It meant she would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, or she'd have to go into hiding as she had for so many years. "You're lucky we're friends, Tessa, or I'd send you to the Garden. Who knows how long you'd last there." Not long, she imagined. There was only so much she could do in that cesspit with so many vampires gunning for blood. Even if they were pinned down and bricked up, fresh blood would make a starving vampire ravenous, capable of anything. Marcel leaned in close to her face, eye to eye with her, and hissed, "Anything I do concerning the Originals doesn't concern you, _witch_." The snub was obvious and deliberate, but it didn't hurt her feelings as much as it probably should have. Thirty years of friendship crumbling over one missing man. Marcel let go and she collapsed to the ground, hands around her throat, coughing and gasping for air. Now she knew how Sophie felt earlier. "For the sake of our friendship, I'm going to forget that this happened. Just this once," he warned. "Now get out of my sight while I'm still kind enough to let you leave whole."

* * *

Tessa dropped a ball of ice into a tumbler and moved to her bar just off the kitchen. It was solid oak with fully adjustable glass shelves, dovetailed drawers, and upper and lower lights. On the top was an assortment of liquors while the middle section of the bottom contained wine, and the two side doors on the bottom had every type of glass she would need for any drink. Cheap, expensive, sweet, bitter – her taste varied and, tonight, was in the mood for Ballantines, her favorite scotch and the only one she could drink straight. The bruises Marcel had left on her throat had already healed, but his words still rattled around inside her head. She needed to get them out, hence the scotch; it had just enough sting to make her forget his threats. But it also made her remember days long since passed. In a moment of weakness, Tessa opened her laptop and brought up her music. She wasn't sure why she had even downloaded the song as she hadn't listened to the song in decades. It was just too painful. Like so many other songs, it always made her think of Elijah. Tessa took a deep swallow of the scotch and hit play. She reclined back on her sofa, sank into it as the dulcet melody of _Belle nuit, __ô__ nuit d'amour _began to fill her apartment.

P.S.: Seven pages total


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _The Originals_ or any of the characters. I only own Tessa, another set of characters you'll meet, and their story. Read on and enjoy!

Quick note: Huang is pronounced like wong, the 'h' is silent. If you've ever watched _Law & Order: SVU_, then you know Dr. Huang and it sounds exactly the same.

**Chapter 4**

"Are you serious right now?" The blonde woman stopped her dancing – if it could even be called that, because what she really needed was a pole – and whipped around in shock. "Having fun?" Tessa walked slowly to the stereo on the metal table, eyes never leaving the now fidgeting and shame faced blonde, and turned off the music. Arms crossed, Tessa took slow, calculated steps towards the teenager. "Get back in your body, Huang. Now," Tessa ordered tersely.

"But this one is so much more fun!" the blonde protested, stamping her foot childishly.

"I don't care. I've got orders from Marcel. This one is for the rats," she retorted. The blonde, Tina McGreevy, the news had said her name was, sighed and scoffed in disappointment. Stomping around Tessa, sending the taller woman a death glare, she bent down and touched something. A moment later, Tina collapsed, dead once more, and the morgue's diener, a Chinese man named Huang, rose from behind his desk with a wince. "Have a headache?" He nodded slowly, wincing and rubbing his temples. "Good," she snapped, completely unsympathetic. "Now help me get her back onto a slab so I can wheel her out."

"Marcel just likes to ruin everybody's fun," Huang comment, stumbling to help her pick up the prone corpse.

"Yes, he does. Because he's Marcel and that's his prerogative," she explained shortly. "Now, zip your lips and make yourself useful."

"Hey, I am _plenty _useful," he argued defensively.

"Yeah, I really got the sense of that when I saw you doing, what was that exactly? The Harlem Shake?" she questioned sarcastically. Huang rolled his eyes as he grabbed Tina's arms while Tessa took her legs. Together, they lifted her and let her fall to the rolling slab with a slam.

"It was the Wobble, thank you very much," he corrected with a dignified tone. He sighed forlornly and ran a gentle hand through Tina's hair. "I always wanted to be a blonde. Alas, it wasn't meant to be."

"Fascinating," she remarked dryly and slapped his hands off the corpse. "Go find another corpse to dance around in. Some of us have actual work to do."

"Yeah, and your work is going to get us all killed!" Huang called after her. "You'll be in here one day, Tessa! And I can't wait for the chance!" He was so beyond lucky that she didn't set him ablaze right then and there. Instead, she gave him another stony look before casually rolling the table out of the swinging doors.

Tessa rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as she walked the corpse down the hallway. She was helping Marcel out, as a favor and as penance for her "temper tantrum" the night before. Tina McGreevy had missed out on the opportunity to become a vampire, and now she was just another empty sack of meat, blood, guts, and bone. And, lucky Tessa, she had to clean up the mess. Huang, the kind albeit misguided and generally creepy diener, the one who handled, moved, and cleaned corpses, ran the city morgue. He'd become familiar with Tessa when he moved into town eight years prior, and he knew all too well when to look the other way whenever she came around. It was only fair because she ignored his penchant for playing with the corpses. It wasn't like he left the morgue wearing them or anything, so he didn't understand why she got so bent out of shape since. She was a mortician, she worked with the dead as much as he did, so it really shouldn't have freaked her out. Thus was the logic of Huang. Once she was outside, she grabbed the girl's dead, naked body. While a dead person was heavier than a living one, Tessa barely noticed as she chucked the girl into the dumpster. Unfortunately, she had to hide her true strength from everyone, even Huang, and play at being a weakling. Please, as if she'd needed his help lifting Tina off the floor. Speaking of Tina, rats, mice, birds, bugs, maybe even a snake or two would take care of her soon enough. As she walked back to her car, Tessa pulled out her cell phone and saw she had a text message from Klaus.

_'Come to the house. Now.'_

Shaking her head, she ignored his message for the moment and dialed the familiar number. "Marcel. It's done. Your blonde is now resting comfortably in a dumpster behind the morgue."

"_That's good work, Tess. Good work,"_ he complimented, sounding genuinely pleased. "_You coming to the party tonight?" _When she told him no, he groaned playfully and told her, _"Come on, Tess! I know how much you love a good party. You'd get to doll yourself up, dance a little, free booze..."_

"Pandering to the local government officials isn't my idea of fun. No matter how much free booze is involved. Sorry," she told him, "looks like you're on your own tonight, darling. Besides, I have plans."

"_Such as?"_ he inquired.

"Washing my hair," she retorted sassily. Marcel was laughing on the other line when she hung up. Sliding into her car, Tessa sped down the streets until she reached the new Mikaelson manor. Striding up the stairs, she walked through the front door and sauntered into the parlor, where Sophie was already seated. Rebekah was practically circling the woman like a hawk. Slamming the door shut behind her, alerting the others to her presence, she tossed her purse down on the couch.

"What is she doing here?" Sophie asked, pissed. Her throat still had hints of bruising from Tessa's attack. "You can't possibly trust her!"

"Not this again," Tessa muttered and rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you again, Sophie."

"You realize she tried to kill me, right?" Sophie posed to the vampires. In turn, they looked at Tessa, who shrugged nonchalantly. While Klaus looked somewhat annoyed with the news, Rebekah looked absolutely livid.

"It wouldn't be the first time, Sophie, and you've tried to do me just as much harm," she retorted and collapsed into a nearby chair, crossing her legs. "What's the big deal all of a sudden? You have to run to the big bad Originals for protection now?"

"No, but she _is _linked to the werewolf carrying my child," Klaus informed her. "Anything happens to Sophie, it happens to Hayley. See the problem now, love?" With a sigh, Tessa apologized for the sake of Hayley, not wanting any harm to come to the girl she swore to Elijah she'd protect. "Now that, that's settled, let's get down to business. We need you both to do a spell."

"Are you out of your mind?! No way!" Sophie exclaimed. Tessa just rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, shaking her head at the Originals.

"It's very simple," Rebekah told her, the threat in her tone unmistakable. "We need you to perform a teeny, tiny locator spell to help us find our brother."

"Witches who practice magic in this town get caught. And they get killed," the witch reminded them.

"Yes, about that. It seems you left out a crucial detail when we made our deal," Klaus said, walking around to sit in the chair beside Tessa. "Marcel's secret weapon, the way he knows when a witch is using magic..."

"Girl about yay high, cute as a button, anger issues," Rebekah added.

The color drained from Sophie's face as she gasped, "D-Davina?" Klaus' previously smug face fell; the witch knew her. More secrets, why wasn't he surprised? But what an interesting development. "Where have you seen her?" she asked desperately.

"I don't know," Rebekah answered. "The little _brat_ erased my memory right after she threw me out a window with her bloody mind!"

"Let me cut to the chase," Klaus interjected politely, although his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Davina has Elijah. You witches, I assume, want to get Davina away from Marcel. We don't know where she is, ergo, we need magic."

"Davina would sense it," Sophie protested.

"Unless, of course, another witch – say, a traitor to the cause, Katie, for example – was to perform much more powerful magic at the same time."

"What did Katie do?" Tessa inquired curiously. Rebekah proceeded to explain that the witch in question sold wolfsbane to Hayley, which would poison the baby. Hayley regretted her decision to put the baby out of its misery and all was forgiven, for the most part as Katie wasn't so lucky. "Well, in that case, that should work. This girls entire focus would be on Katie, while you did the locator spell." She looked at Sophie and nodded, smiling brightly. "It's a perfect smokescreen. Brilliant." Sophie, however, didn't feel that way and shook her head.

"Katie doesn't deserve to die." Klaus slammed his hands on the table and rose to his feet.

"Sophie Deveraux! You're in no position to be so principled," he reminded her, sitting on the edge of the table before her. "You can't win a war without a few strategic losses, no matter how regrettable they may be. How many times have the vampires been one step ahead? Known something they shouldn't? Your sister, executed in the public square, for practicing magic. You knew she'd be caught. Did she even attempt to flee?"

Sophie swallowed the lump in her throat and answered, "She was caught hiding in a cargo hold of a freighter before it set sail down the Mississippi."

"And who, pray tell, of Marcel's valued inner circle manages his business at the docks?"

"Thierry," Tessa answered immediately.

"Katie's boyfriend," Sophie reluctantly added. Tessa smirked and chuckled lowly, shaking her head. It seemed Katie was to be their sacrificial lamb for the evening.

"And what shall you do with yourself tonight, love?" Klaus inquired, looking at Tessa expectantly.

"I thought I'd stay here, look after your wolf whilst you're all out and about," she answered with an easy shrug.

"No," Sophie immediately objected.

"Aw, what's the matter, Sophie? Scared I'll do something drastic?" she mocked with a wicked smirk. Looking at the Mikaelsons, Sophie reminded them once more that they couldn't trust Tessa. Rolling her eyes, she rose to her feet and commented, "Blah blah polysyllabic blah. You bore me. I have some business to take care of, but I _am _staying here to look after the girl. Whether you like or not." With that, Tessa grabbed her purse, sauntered out of the room and headed back outside. She pulled out her cell phone once more and waited patiently for an answer. "Luke, it's me. I need a favor."

* * *

The plan was quickly formed to set up Thierry, by using a nightwalker Klaus had been draining of vervain. The nightwalker in question was compelled to attack Katie at the rousting that night. Thierry would attack and, if all went well, would kill the nightwalker in defense of his love. Marcel wold be able to overlook a fling with a witch but killing one of his own? There was no chance Marcel would be able to ignore that. Sophie agreed to do the spell that night, in the cemetery, where her magic was strongest, with Rebekah while Klaus kept up appearances with Marcel at the Masquerade Gala that night. Meanwhile, Katie would unwittingly go Thierry's rescue and her magic would cover up the locator spell. Sophie, however, didn't trust Tessa one bit and Sabine showing up at Sophie's instance proved just that. Tessa told her to wait inside while she got Hayley, who she'd been keeping tabs on though she hadn't approached her. Sneaking outside, Tessa quietly walked towards the young werewolf, who was entranced by the wolf at the edge of the property. The pair stared at one another, neither making a move towards the other, just simply hypnotized by each other.

"He's drawn to you," Tessa told her, announcing her presence.

Startled, Hayley whipped around and questioned, "Who the hell are you?"

"Tessa. We've never met but I'm an..." She paused and tried to think of how to describe her placement in the world. "...acquaintance," she decided was the best way to describe herself, "of your vampires."

"You're that other witch. Tessa," Hayley realized, pointing at her. "Sophie doesn't like you much."

"Ten points to the eavesdropper," Tessa chuckled. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Cautiously, Hayley asked her why she was at the house. "I made a promise," she answered. "Besides, none of the other witches are lining up for werewolf watch. They're all too scared of your Original bodyguards."

"But you're not?"

"Had to meet you. Elijah said you were...how did he put it?" Her face lit up as she remembered that day on the streets. "Oh, right, "impetuous"."

Hayley's interest perked and she inquired, "You know Elijah?"

"For centuries." At her perplexed look, Tessa told her, "Magic, darling. Maybe I'll tell you a story later but, for now, come back inside. You're not supposed to be out here anyway."

"You gonna rat on me?" Hayley asked, only half joking.

"I already told you: your secrets are safe with me." The pair smiled at one another and Hayley nodded, walking beside her as they headed back into the house. Entering the kitchen, Tessa rolled her eyes and gestured to the dark skinned witch. "This is Sabine. You might remember her from when Sophie and the other witches kidnapped you and held you in the bayou for days on end."

"Sophie asked me to come keep you company while everyone's away," Sabine said with a kind smile.

"I'm not "company"?" the mortician pouted mockingly.

"You know, your child is part vampire, part werewolf. You and Klaus made something special." Arms crossed, both women rolled her eyes; Tessa from boredom, Hayley in skepticism.

"You sound like Elijah," Hayley told her. "He thinks this baby is going to make us one big, happy family, but now he's gone and I don't even know what..._it_ is."

"You know, I _can_ do something about that, if you want," Sabine offered. "Find out if it's a boy or a girl."

"But I thought you couldn't do witchy stuff around here?"

Sabine chuckled and assured her, "It's not magic. An old trick my grandmother taught me. Come on, you have to be a little curious." Hayley bit her lip and looked at Tessa, who just shrugged. Sabine may not like the idea of a truce with the Originals, but she wasn't dumb enough to hurt Hayley if she was linked to Sophie. Reluctantly, Hayley nodded and Sabine gestured her for to hop onto the kitchen counter and lay back. Reaching around her neck, the witch grabbed a chain and pulled her necklace off.

"The pendulum trick," Tessa realized with a smile. "I _love_ this one."

"You're familiar with it?" Sabine asked, a little shocked.

"You aren't the only one with a family, Sabine," she remarked in annoyance. She explained that if the pendulum swing in a circle, it meant that the baby was a girl while, if it moved to and fro, the baby was a boy. It wasn't an exact science, but it was fun to try out.

"And you'll teach this to your daughter?" Hayley asked with a smile smile. Tessa's paled and she smiled forlornly, her heart pounding.

"If I ever have children, I'd want a son," she answered with a pained smile. "They're a little messier, sure, but they're so much easier to manage. _Way_ less drama and resentment on my part. Little boys always love their mother's best." Hayley laughed quietly with her, knowing that was all too true. Sabine held up the pendulum and it began to spin in circles.

"I think it's a girl," she told her, smiling at her. "W-Wait..."

""Wait" what?" she echoed. Half-joking but also fearing the worst, she pleaded, "Please, tell me I'm not having a mini Klaus." All of a sudden, the pendulum fell to the floor as Sabine threw her head back and gasped loudly.

"_Hoc est infantima malom, Nos omnia perditu el eam__!_"

"Sabine?" Tessa cautiously approached the rigid witch, her head still thrown back as she muttered to herself. "Sabine?" The moment her hand touched the other woman's shoulder, Sabine gasped and shot away from the pair, hyperventilating. Hayley slowly sat up, staring at the other woman in stunned silence, as Sabine started to gather up her things. "Sabine, you okay?"

"Fine. I have to go," the witch snapped, shaking as she bolted from the kitchen. The front door slammed shut and the two just looked at one another, trying to process what had just happened.

"Do you know hat did she said?" Hayley asked, worried.

"No," Tessa lied. A broken translation echoed in her head. _The infant/child is evil/bad, it will destroy/make loss of all/everything. _"I wouldn't be too worried. Sabine gets visions all the time, usually they mean nothing."

"That didn't seem like nothing!" she argued.

"Hayley, stress isn't good for you or the baby," she reminded her. "Just put it from your mind, okay? Don't even worry about it. Nobody ever puts much stock in Sabine's visions for a reason." Tessa smiled at her and Hayley, it seemed, was convinced as she nodded. The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut broke their moment and Tessa sighed. "Sounds like your vampire family are home. Looks like I'll have to save my Elijah stories for another time," she teased. Tessa pulled Hayley into a hug, rubbing her back gently before she pulled back and reminded her, "No stress."

"No stress," she promised with a grin.

"Here's my number. If you need me, don't hesitate." Tessa winked at her and wished a good night, pulling on her coat as she left the house. The moment she was back in her apartment, she poured herself a glass of Ballatine's and hit the play button. She was developing a habit that was becoming increasingly hard to break.

* * *

_Perhaps Germany wasn't the safest place to be at the moment but Tessa didn't mind the danger. If anything, it excited her. She'd grown up in a world of warfare, seen and committed her share of bloodshed, and this was her vacation. The last five or six centuries, give or take a decade, she had been forced to put aside her blood predilections in favor of conforming with the roles her fellow women took on. It was painfully boring, especially in the earlier years – and the dresses, oh the dresses! How painful they used to be! – but there had been a few bright spots. The whole of the the Renaissance was a personal favorite, the 1920s she wished she could relive over and over again, but the new age had it's merits as well. Maybe it was her inner bellophile, but the feeling of impending war just got her blood bumping. And the last one, the Spanish Civil War, had been lackluster and boring in comparison to others, like the French Revolution. Regardless, the new World War was just beginning and it showed some promise. Hence her sudden move to Germany; Tessa wanted to be right in the middle of all the action. _

_She walked along the streets that night, listening to people's conversations, understanding only some of what she heard as she wasn't fluent in the language. She was dressed in the best gown she could buy. The entire gown was plum and rendered in embroidered lace, three-quarter sleeves, fitted to her body and flared into a mermaid skirt. With an open back, there was a single black button on the back, between her shoulder blades, and a zipper at the base of her spine. She had a sheer cape wrapped around her shoulders, black beaded devore-print with a tassel fringed edging. Not that she particularly needed it as it was March, but it just went so well with her dress. A few days ago, Hitler had left the capitol to meet with Mussolini at the Brenner pass on the Austrian border. It was widely reported that the Italian leader would be joining forces with Germany, but nothing concrete had been divulged as of yet. But the politics of men were no concern of hers. Her primary concern, at the moment, was getting to the opera house on time. The Semperoper opera house was a beautiful piece of architecture in Dresden, Germany near the bank of the Elbe River. On top of the portal, there was a Panther quadriga with a statue of the god Dionysus. Monuments on the portal depicted artists such as Goethe, Schiller, Shakespeare, Sophocles, Molière, and Euripides. Lately, many works of Strauss had been premiering at the Semperoper but, that night, _The Tales of the Hoffman_ by Jacques Offenbach was playing. _

_The prologue and first act were sublime, as always. Act two always had her heart pounding and blood racing as it proceeded because she knew, the moment it ended and the third act began, her favorite part would open it. However, the sound of shuffling and a muffled scream distracted her. Someone in the balcony box next to her was creating a ruckus. Okay, perhaps it wasn't quite a ruckus as she was the only one who could hear it, but it bothered her nonetheless. Someone disturbing the opera equated to something talking during a movie; it simply wouldn't do and it bothered her. Rising from her seat, Tessa retreated her curtained box and walked to the one next to hers. Grasping the curtain, she ripped it open and scowled as the man looked at her. It was dark but she could make out the veins on his pale skin. The woman in his arms was barely breathing, a small amount of blood trailing down her throat from the puncture wounds._

"_Vampire, of course," she mumbled, unimpressed. The vampire in question quirked a curious brow at her. "If you wouldn't mind finishing your meal in silence, I'm trying to enjoy Antonia's death." With that, Tessa turned and left the man to his dinner. She returned to her box, reclaimed her seat, and resumed watching act two. Her brief leave to scold her neighbor had caused her to miss Antonia's final death and her father, Crespel's arrival and witness of her last breath. Hoffman was on stage now, Crespel wishing to kill him because he believed that Hoffman was responsible for his daughter. The curtain behind her fluttered and the seat next to her occupied as Nicklausse took the stage. "If you've come to kill me, at least have the decency to wait for the opera to end. It's my favorite."_

"_Clearly you are familiar with my kind," he observed._

"_You're not the first one I've met."_

"_And yet you are not frightened?"_

"_Why should I be frightened when I could turn you to ash?" she commented lightly._

_Chuckling, he realized, "You're a witch." She nodded noncommittally, eyes focused on the stage. "If I may inquire, what is your name?" he asked politely. Tessa looked at him a moment, eyes rolling up and down his stylish suit and smiled a little at the stain of blood on the corner of his mouth. She reached up a gentle hand and wiped the blood away with her thumb. The vampire follow her hand and took her thumb in his mouth, gently kissing the skin, using his tongue to take the drop of blood he'd missed. The contact caused her to inhale sharply and her heart to pound furiously. He smirked, rather smugly, as the sound reached his ears._

"_Theresa," she introduced. The vampire took her hand and kissed her knuckles._

"_Elijah, pleasure."_

"_Pleasure to meet you, too, Elijah. Now, shhh," she hushed teasingly. "My favorite song is starting." Tessa tugged her hand away from him and turned her eyes to the stage, sighing contently as _Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour_ opened the third act. Elijah relaxed in the seat next to his mysterious companion, eyes drifting from the performance to the woman beside him._

_**A/N:** _One, I'm not sure if my translation of Sabine's vision is correct so don't quote me on it!

Two, not only did you get to meet a new character - who I may or may not feature again - but you got an Elijah flashback! Except more of those over the course of this story.

Three, my theory is that the mysterious wolf is someone in Hayley's family, the Labonair (if I'm not mistaken) family. Eve, who we met last week said that Marcel or the witches (I can't remember) worked some kind of voodoo so that the werewolves in the Quarter could only become human during the full moon. Basically, their transformations are reversed. Maybe the wolf was Eve, maybe it was someone else. But in my story, just so y'all know, that wolf? It's not someone in Hayley's family!

P.S.: Eight pages total.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own _The Originals_ or any of the characters. I only own Tessa, another set of characters you'll be meeting in this chapter, and their story! Read on and enjoy!

Here it is, guys! The moment y'all have been waiting for – you get to find out what Tessa is! Now, I should note that I wanted to draw this out, maybe have a dozen or so chapters before I did the big reveal, but then I thought again. I figured I could put a TV move and let the audience be in on a big secret, but save the reveal to the other characters for later. Besides, I have a lot of stuff planned regarding Tessa and the "other world" I'll be blending into this series, so it's best to get it started now.

**Chapter 5**

The moment the lunch shift was over, Tessa gathered her things and dashed out of the bar in record speed. Marcel and his family, Klaus among them, had been in earlier. She'd served them for the majority of her shift, putting up with the King's flirtatious nature. Tessa was used to such attention from Marcel; after all, he'd teased her in such a manner for all years she'd known him. He was harmless, in regards to that at least; he didn't want Tessa as anything other than a bed warmer even though he knew that would never happen. It didn't stop his teasing though. The man, she thought, seriously needed to find a new woman to relentlessly torture. Perhaps he had, she did hear him talking about another bartender, a brave one, he said, name of Camille. Tessa sent her thoughts to Camille, wishing her all the luck in the world; she'd need it with Marcel.

Walking down the crowded street, she pushed her way through the crowd of locals and tourists until she reached Bourbon Street and a familiar alleyway. Turning down it, Tessa calmly made her way through the weaving path it offered. She didn't bother to look behind her to see if she was being followed, or even above to the rooftops in case of Marcel's daywalkers stalking her as they did from time to time. There was no need to worry for, in this space, she was free to be herself. A series of both complex and simple spells glamored and cloaked the alley, and the secret it held from all vampires and witches. New Orleans was a city full of secrets and the one she was headed to was it's best kept one. Marcel didn't know about it, not even the witches knew and they had it under their noses their entire lives. The only way they'd find it was if they were led there, invited. Tessa smirked as the giant steel doors and archaic hanging lamp came into view, the metallic symbols on it more protection and cloaking spells. To any human that passed by, the doors were industrial but also impenetrable; humans had tried to get in over the years and failed. Now, it was covered in a series of spray paint street art.

Grasping the handle, she pulled the door open and grinned at the flurry of noises that hit her. The Celtic music, the sound of pool balls smacking together, glasses being broken and clanking together, and a dozen different languages being spoken. Tír na nÓg, better and affectionately known as The NÓG, was a way-station for people like her, for the fae. One of the best parts about The NÓG was that it was built on sacred ground which, as she'd told Elijah, prevented any and all vampires from entrance without invitation, even Originals. And that was only if they could actually _find _the place first. Despite the crowd of the bar, there were so few fae left in New Orleans, most being scared of Marcel and ran when he ran the werewolves out. After all, if he had done that, subjugated the witches and had the humans under his thumb, how long would it take him to discover and do the same to the fae of the city? Not long, Tessa gathered, as she nodded to a few of the people inside that she knew and she made her way to a door near the bar. As she approached the door, she nodded at the lone bartender to follow her. He nodded back, finished his customer and followed after her, closing the door behind them.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he inquired with a cheerful grin as they made their way down the stairs.

Oisín, or Ossie as people called him, was the owner of The NÓG and the Keeper of Declarations in New Orleans. Any fae that passed through or moved into the city had to come meet with him and sign in. Literally, they had to sign in. There was a gigantic book that was thousands of pages thick, filled with names, species, residences, occupations, the length of the stay; it went back thousands of years. The reason the otherwise powerless man was the Keeper was because he was a direct descendant of the original Oisín, the greatest poet of Ireland and a warrior of the fianna that the common people turned into myth. Legend told that his ancestor met and fell in love with a fae woman, Niamh, who took him away to Tír na nÓg, "the land of the young". Over the course of the three hundred years they spent together in that land – although it only seemed liked three years to Oisín – the human and the fae had two children, Oscar and Plor na mBan. Upon his leaving, Niamh gave her love her horse, Embarr, and warned him not to dismount because, if his feet touched the ground, those three hundred years would catch up with him and he would wither away and die. The story varied from there but, in the end, Oisín _did _die. But his bloodline lived on through his half-fae children. The blood mingled through mortals and various fae over the years. Despite his appearance of being in his fifties, Ossie was well into his hundreds – though no one knew an exact number – and immortal, truly immortal. He was also very short, standing at just under five feet; he often joked that there was dwarf and gnome in the blood line.

"Normally, you just have a couple drinks and play a few games with Luke or Samir."

Skipping the formalities, Tessa plopped down on his couch and stated, "The Originals are in town. Three of them."

"And the other two?" Ossie questioned seriously, his cheery mood gone and face pale.

"Dead." He nodded slowly and hobbled over to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a bottle of fae liquor and two glasses. Underneath The NÓG was Ossie's home, filled with dusty books, ancient artifacts, weapons and countless other possessions he'd collected and traded over the years. All powerful in their own way, all apart of the fae history. Ossie poured both of them a drink and both downed theirs quickly, so he poured them another. "You know what this means."

Ossie nodded and sighed, "I know. Go get Luke and Samir. They need to hear this." Tessa nodded and rose to her feet, headed for the door until Ossie called out to her. "By the way, Halima was in here earlier. She wants you to call her as soon as possible."

Tessa groaned and rubbed her temples, "Why? What does she want now?"

"What she _always _wants: body parts," he pointed out, his tone implying that she was stupid for not knowing this or, rather, for ignoring it. "You knew, as a mortician, that you would be obligated to provide for the Aswang community." The Aswang were a type of carrion fae, eating the bodies of those that died in an epidemic. In modern times, they ate the bodies, or body parts, that they got from the local mortuary to keep viral agents of diseased flesh from spreading out into the community.

"Yes, but there wasn't a "community" to provide _for_ when I moved here. It was the best selling point," she pointed out. Tessa found the Aswang's to be an extremely gross and particularly disgusting type of fae. None had been in New Orleans, the main point of her moving there, until Halima and her clan moved in three years ago. Three years of gross, disgusting deliveries to their home and invites to stay over for dinner. Please, as if she'd eat anything the Aswang people made. She could end up eating _foot_ _soup_ or something! "Why can't she just hound Huang for bodies? He has better access at the morgue than I do in the funeral home," she pointed out.

"Because she doesn't fancy eating a Hsien's leftovers," he answered with a simple smile.

Huang was fae as well and, like the Aswang, a particularly gross kind. Hsien were a type of fae that could jump from their own body to another by touching the cadaver, thus reanimating the corpse. There was no limit to how many bodies a Hsien could jump through. However, they couldn't remain in a corpse indefinitely because the body would continue to decay despite the Hsien presence. Over the eight years Tessa had known Huang, she gathered that he could only inhabit a body for at least several hours and up to three days. Of course, if the corpse was destroyed, such as someone getting trigger happy over seeing a "zombie", and got shot to the brain then the Hsien would die. Because of his penchant for inhabiting the bodies that came through the morgue's doors, the Aswang community switched from getting their food at the morgue to the only fae mortician in town: Tessa. She swore up and down that she both hated and envied Huang; hated because he had inadvertently sent the Aswang to her doorstep, and envied because he didn't have to deal with them. Stomping up the stairs, Tessa made her way to the pool tables were her second and third favorite fae were playing a game and flirting with a pair of nymphs.

"Make tracks, girls. Now," she ordered firmly.

"Tessa, kind of in the middle of something here," Samir stressed, glaring at her. His voice was charming for the sake of the nymphs, but he was jerking his head, silently demanding her to go away. Besides him, Luke ducked his head and chuckled; he really should know better than to piss her off.

"As much as I hate to interrupt a good booty call and, believe me, I _so _do," she chimed, grinning mischievously, "Ossie needs you both. Now." Luke immediately, obediently, set down his pool cue and grabbed his pint, following after Tessa.

Luke was a lycan, also known as wolf-shifters, one of the many types of shape-shifting fae that could transform at will into a wolf. They were often mistaken for werewolves, but the lycan were more advanced and possessed a greater control over their ability to transform, and their wide range of senses and powers. Even in human form, a lycan could possess superhuman physical prowess. Superhuman strength, speed, heightened senses, agility, reflexes, stamina, not to mention the healing factor and longevity that all fae possessed. She'd seen him half transform before; his eyes would change to a molten golden color, his fingernails sharpen into claws and his teeth into fangs. It was quite a sight to behold. The same was true of his wolf-form, which white and gray with hints of brown. Why Luke decided to remain in New Orleans after Marcel purged all the werewolves was beyond her. It was a dangerous choice; if he was ever discovered, he would immediately be killed. Longevity didn't mean immortality; Luke's own family, his entire clan, had been murdered by the lycan's natural enemy, the lupercus. Fortunately, when Marcel ran the wolves out of the city, the lupercus ran not long after.

Samir, on the other hand, was a djinn; specifically, a hinn, the weakest of the species. Unlike the happy Disney story of genies, the more common name of djinn, they weren't the wish granting type and not all of them were as kind as Samir. Some were actually quite malevolent, like his father, an ifrit, one of other ten subclasses of djinn. As a djinn, Samir could tell a person's deepest desires and poison his victims with a simple touch, causing reality-altering hallucinations so powerful that the victim truly believe they're living the implanted reality. It was a fantasy, allowing the person to believe their deepest desire, their wish, had been granted and time passed so slowly there that the victim would feel as thought they'd lived a lifetime in a matter of days. The only way to escape a djinn's hold was to commit suicide in the fantasy. The downside was that, if the person died from anything other than their own hand in the fantasy, then they died in real life, hence the urban legend. Besides possessing a hallucinogenic touch, Samir also possessed superhuman strength, speed, agility, telepathy and longevity. But he had his fatal weakness as well, his being a silver – whether it was a knife, dagger, sword or bullet – but only if it was dipped in lamb's blood.

Despite the dark nature of his race, Samir used his abilities for good as an officer of the law. Actually, both men were detectives in the New Orleans police department. Hinn were the breed of djinn that were naturally inclined to be open-minded towards humans and close to animals, so Samir's partnership with a lycan garnered him a great deal of shame from his father. Luke was a stickler for the rules but wasn't above using his natural canine abilities to track down suspects that had a penchant for disappearing and hiding very well. Tessa often teased him, telling him that he was a police man who doubled as his own police dog. Like him, Samir would use his abilities on the job and send suspects into their fantasy. Sometimes, the places were wonderful, others were sick; it all depended on the psyche. Once there, he would manipulate the fantasy via telepathy and, eventually, a confession would come about. Other times, he would simply manipulate a victim, help them find closure with just the smallest dose of his power. Of course, he only did this in the most dire of circumstances.

"I'll catch up with you later," Samir promised, kissing the nymph's cheek and winking at her. "Why do you _always_ have to ruin my fun?" he complained, catching up to the pair. "You don't see me coming to _your _bar and jacking up Marcel when he's flirting with you!"

Luke laughed and stated, "I think she would love you if you did that."

"You got that right," she added. "You'd be a saint."

"Oh, well, in that case—"

"Don't!" she warned, stopping his flirtation before he could even begin.

"You're loss," he retorted, causing Tessa to roll her eyes. "So, what's all this about?" he asked, jumping off the last step into Ossie's dwelling. "And can we _please_ hurry it along because there is a particularly _scrumptious_ water nymph upstairs that would just _love _me take a slither through her pipes, if you get my meaning." Samir winked at Ossie, who shook his head; that was just too much information.

"We _all _get your meaning," Tessa stated, face scrunched up in disgust.

"Ossie?" Luke toned respectfully.

"The Originals have returned." Samir immediately sobered up, sharing a look with his partner. "Now that I have your undivided attention," he began, pointedly looking at Samir, "we need to prepare."

"Anything you need," the lycan promised. Samir nodded, a silent promise of the same. "Are all of them here?" Tessa told him it was only three as the other two were somehow, miraculously, dead. "And how did you find this out?"

"You don't need to know," she stated. Luke shook his head and chuckled, amused.

"Actually, we do," Ossie interjected. "It's important, Theresia."

"Don't do that! That's _not _my name and it hasn't been for a _very _long time." Ossie held up his hands, a silent apology. Despite the fact that she was far older than Ossie, he had the uncanny ability to make her feel like a child being scolded by their parent. One way of doing that was to call her by her true name, her _first _of many names. "Elijah, the eldest? I know him," she admitted. The men stared at her, stunned. Why in the hell had she not told them this before? Sighing, Tessa poured herself another drink and sat down on the couch. "I met Elijah back during WWII, but we separated when I "died" in '42. Really, not a big deal," she told them, trying to sound nonchalant and blow it off. It wasn't working.

"And did he _see_ you "die"?" Ossie questioned and, after a moments pause, she nodded. "And he's aware you're alive?" Reluctantly, she nodded again and the man groaned, hand covering his face. To take the focus off of her, Tessa quickly told them that was how she knew the Originals were back. Since she was being so truthful, although it felt like pulling teeth, she admitted that Klaus and Rebekah were the ones in town and the former was currently cementing himself into Marcel's circle.

"But he's just doing it to take Marcel out," she added. "Which could work to our favor."

Samir pointed out, "If Klaus _does _take over and is willing to work with us..."

"Then we wouldn't have to hide anymore," Luke finished. "But how do we know he wouldn't treat us the way Marcel treated the werewolves? The witches?"

"We don't," Ossie admitted with a helpless shrug. "We just have to hope that he'll be a better king. This could be good news for fae everywhere. No more living in fear."

"No more hiding," Samir added.

"No subjugation either," Tessa pointed out.

"If we're lucky." Samir rolled his eyes and lightly smacked his partner, telling him not to be so negative. "I'm just saying what we're all thinking: Klaus could be worse than Marcel. We've all heard the stories. What if he beats out Marcel and we reveal ourselves to him, the _entire_ fae community in the city, then what? We have _no idea _what he would do to us. He could hunt us down and kill us all or..."

"Or he could use us," Ossie finished grimly, Luke nodding. The quartet let that thought settle amongst them for a moment. The idea that Klaus would enslave the fae people, using the thousands of breeds for his own personal uses. They'd be slaves, no better than the witches under Marcel's rule. At least now, living in the shadows, they weren't in that situation. They were free, to an extent.

Samir snapped his fingers and hopefully inquired, "What if we found a seniatta?" Seniatta were fae who could control a human's inner motivations with a touch, influencing and manipulating them.

"A spriggan would be better," Tessa stated. Spriggan's had the ability to make binding deals. If one shook hands with a spriggan, intentional or not, one must complete a favor for the spriggan. If one attempted to leave the deal once made, the spriggan would literally reappear in front of them. "Are there any in the city?"

"I'll consult the book when get to that point and _only _then," Ossie promised, the "book" being _the _book that all fae had to sign, the Book of Declarations. Grabbing two more glasses, he poured Luke and Samir a drink as well as refilling his own. Passing the men their drinks, he gestured for Tessa to stand with them and raised his glass. "A toast: to the Originals, may they reign and may it be true. Blessed be."

"Blessed be," the three fae echoed, all of them downing their drink.

"Now, for our other business," Ossie continued, looking pointedly at Tessa. "Elijah, does he know what you are?"

Tessa shook her head and replied, "No. When we were together, he thought I was a witch. Our time was brief and I was careful, there's no way he could have suspected anything then. But now..." She sighed heavily. "He doesn't have a clue, but he knows I'm no witch."

"You're telling me he could find out and sell us all out?" Samir questioned incredulously

"Don't sound so concerned for _me_," she snapped sarcastically.

"Oh, but he's your boyfriend, I forgot," the djinn retorted, "he'd never do a thing to hurt _you_. No, instead, he'll just rip out all of _our _hearts!" Elijah thought his brother's temper was legendary, but he had no idea that he was a legend himself.

She rolled her eyes and told him, "Stop being so dramatic. You're giving me a migraine."

"I think I'm being the appropriate amount of dramatic! After all, not all of us can survive whatever painful death those vampires would have planned for us! We're not all phoenixes, Tess! We all can't just rise from the ashes!"

Phoenixes, according to the mythology, were believed to be magical birds that were both a blessing and a bringer of doom. The truth was simply that they were a powerful, albeit rare, breed of fae. So rare that, much like the vampires, werewolves, lycans and all fae creatures, common people believed them to be myths. Even the majority of the fae world, even the oldest creatures, believed them to be myths. Tessa had avoided cities with fae communities for centuries because of this fact, but the draw of New Orleans – and the chance to settle down, make roots, after many millenia of solitude – was too much to pass up. Ossie hadn't believed her when she first arrived at the way-station to sign in, but a little proof was all he needed. The only others who knew what she truly was were Luke, Samir and the leader of the Light Fae, The Bodhi, who was gracious enough to keep her secret. For a price. All other fae thought she was a salamander, a type of fire fae, while Marcel and everyone else outside the fae world just thought her a witch with a special ability for summoning fire.

Phoenixes were once shape-shifters, like lycans. Once upon a time, their true form was bird-like and they would shift to a human visage for their own purposes, such as mating. Given the expanding human population and their near extinction, however, phoenixes had evolved in such a way that they could no longer take their bird form of old and were strictly bound to a human form. As a phoenix, Tessa could incinerate anyone and anything by a single touch of her hand, something so strong it could reduce a grown man to ash in seconds. The only other significant power she possessed was that of her tears and, as a personal rule, Tessa never cried; to her, it showed weakness. The myths of a phoenixes tears being able to heal were very true, but they were extremely hard to get. She possessed near invulnerability; a significant amount of force could knock her out for awhile, something she discovered when she'd been hanged centuries ago. Despite this, like Luke, she could heal very quickly, regenerating from any and all non-fatal injuries and was blessed with long life. Tessa was, for all intents and purposes, immortal, immune to death by natural causes and aging. But she had her weaknesses, like all fae did, hers being iron. It was such a silly thing, much like Samir's weakness to silver and lamb's blood, but iron would burn her the way she could burn others. If used correctly, she could be put into an extended state of death, turning ash. But she would rise, as she always had. It was just a matter of how long it took. One time, she woke up and nearly three hundred years had passed!

"I could turn you into ash, if you like," she growled, taking a step towards him. Her hand was raised and glowing orange, wisps of smoke rising from it like burning embers. Samir stepped up to her, eyes completely whited out, the mystical glow of his tattoos shining through his clothes. Luke stepped up between the two feuding fae, hands on their chests.

"I think the point Samir is so idiotically trying to make, is that Elijah is suspicious," Luke stated diplomatically and she turned her glare onto him.

"Yes, Kojak," she spat sarcastically, "he is. Nothing I can do about it." Samir nodded at her, silently apologizing and she did the same. Both backed off and their bodies returned to normal.

"Yes, there is. Stay away from him," Ossie ordered. Tessa nodded obediently, even though it was a lie. There was no way she'd stay away from Elijah. What Ossie didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "Theresia," he warned and she scowled at him, "I mean it. Whatever relationship you had with that vampire, forget about it."

"Okay," she replied quietly, refusing to look at him.

"Theresia—"

"I said "okay"!" she shouted. Slamming the empty glass down on the table, Tessa stormed up and out of the bar, cursing under her breath the entire way.

"Tessa!" Luke called, jogging after her. "Tessa!" She continued to ignore him. "TESS!" he roared, grabbing her arm and spinning her around.

"WHAT?!"

"Calm down!" he ordered in an animalistic growl. Tessa took a deep breath and paced in the alley a moment. All of a sudden, she let out a yell and punched the wall. Luke stared from her to the brick wall, walking to stand beside her. She was panting and staring at the cracked hole she had created. "Ossie's just worried. We all are," he said, calm as ever. Tess took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as well. "Elijah saw you die and, now, here you are, the picture of health after so many years. It's going to bring up questions we can't afford."

"I can't help that," she responded desperately. "Elijah is going to ask questions and, eventually, one way or another, the truth is going to come out. What am I supposed to do, pack up and leave? I won't do that. I _can't_." Before Elijah, she had been alone and she had been alone after him, until Ossie, Luke and Samir. The three fae, they were her family. Her dysfunctional, annoying, over-protective family and she loved them. There was no way she could go back to the way she used to live, not after thirty years of having an actual home.

"You won't have to," he assured her, hands on her shoulders. "Look, we'll find a way to fix it."

"What, like erase his memory?" she laughed. Luke, however, didn't laugh and she stared at him. He was seriously considering that idea! "We are _not _erasing his memory." The wolf held up his hands in surrender, a grin on his face. "Don't you have some nymphs to sexual harass?"

"It's not harassment if they hit on me first, which they did," he pointed out. Tessa laughed and just told him she was sure that was true and, for once, she wasn't teasing him. She was absolutely certain the skimpy nymphs had approached the lycan first. "Plans for the rest of the night?"

Tessa sighed and admitted, "I have to get in touch with Halima, take her order and all that."

"Don't sound so excited," he snarked sarcastically, grinning at her.

"I'll try to contain my enthusiasm," she returned with a saccharine grin. Hesitantly, she bit her lip and stared at Luke and, seeing her the look on her face, his smile faded a bit. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Always," he assured her.

Taking a deep breath, she told him, "Elijah isn't exactly around anymore." At Luke's confused face, Tessa explained that she found out that Klaus had daggered his older brother as a gift to Marcel, who was holding his corpse hostage. Apparently, having three Originals didn't inspire awe and respect but fear from all the local vampires. Marcel was keeping Elijah as a "sign of faith", so to speak, so that his subjects were aware that he was still the man in charge in the Quarter. "I'm going to help get him back. Whatever it takes." Luke let out a breath and stepped away from her, pacing and rubbing his head. "I don't ask for much, Luke, but I am asking you this. Please," she pleaded, desperate, "please, don't tell Ossie. Don't tell Samir. They wouldn't understand."

"And I do?" he questioned, incredulous. He was pissed, she could tell. He didn't want or need this burden she was dropping on him.

"You're a pack animal. A pack fights for it's family, no matter the risks involved," she explained seriously. "Elijah is..." Tessa licked her lips and shrugged helplessly. "I won't lose him. Not again. I _can't_."

"Well, I'm already on your werewolf's protection detail, which I can't tell Ossie or Samir about," he added with a pointed look, referring to the "favor" she'd asked of him some nights ago. Ever since then, he'd spent portions of his evening outside the Mikaelson home, watching the female werewolf, guarding her. A job he didn't mind, actually. "What's one more secret?" Reluctantly, Luke nodded and her shoulders relaxed as she hugged him tight, content with the knowledge that he would keep her secret. Even if he didn't approve.

P.S.: Eight pages total.

_**A/N: **_WELL?! Were you guys surprised?!

I should note that the mythology of lycans is from _Lost Girl_, but the mythology of phoenixes is all _Supernatural_, and the mythology of djinn is split between both (mostly _SPN_) and some research of my own. If you'd like to see what our new heroes look like, just go to my profile and a link to photobucket is there. Everything for this story will be added under the file "The Originals". Not only do you get to see what Tessa, Luke, Samir and Ossie look like, you get a look at their powers, The NÓG, and political fae ladder I have lined up. You'll be meeting all of them soon enough!


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